


You Teach Me and I'll Teach You

by ugandadistrict9



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pokemon GO, CW: alcohol, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Kai is the ultimate wingman, M/M, Modern AU, Sibling Bonding, Slow Burn, i didnt have a plan when i started this and it really went places holy crap, these two, this was supposed to be a short little drabble jfc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 06:22:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7628482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ugandadistrict9/pseuds/ugandadistrict9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a Pokémon master was Grif's destiny. He knew this. He's known this for 20 years. It was finally time for him to fulfill that destiny.</p><p>What he didn't know, however, was that somewhere along the way to becoming the best (like no one ever was) with Nintendo's new augmented reality MMO, Grif would fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Teach Me and I'll Teach You

**Author's Note:**

> my friend and i were talking about how she wants to meet her future spouse through Pokémon go and i said “imagine ur otp” and she was like smh u would write that and i was like I WOULD and she told me i should write it for grimmons. i felt inspired
> 
> thus,

Pokémon had always had a place in Grif’s heart, being part of his childhood. He collected the cards as a kid. He LOVED the anime. He played all the handheld games. He would even go so far as to call himself a Pokémon Master.

 

But despite that, Grif was the _last_ person to be excited about this new craze.

 

Pokémon Go had seemed like a great idea when they initially advertised it. You know, ‘Pokémon in real life’. His little weeaboo heart had leapt at the concept. But when it actually arrived, and he’d downloaded it on his phone, he was surprised. And in the worst way possible.

 

He had to actually haul ass to get his Pokémon.

 

It was complete bullshit. Total, complete, utter bullshit.

 

He didn’t know what he had expected, though, truth be told. In Pokémon, the trainers left their homes to go on big epic adventures, and adventures implied leaving the house and walking places. He just hadn’t thought about the amount of sheer physical activity that entailed. And it was fucking summer too!

 

Grif sighed as he trudged down the sidewalk from his cool, air conditioned apartment building. He didn’t know why he was even bothering. He just needed to get in on the Pokémon action. He needed to see it for himself. He couldn’t let all these dumb casuals who had never even played Pokémon before the app came out become Pokémon Masters before him. That just wasn’t right.

 

Thus, he was sweating his ass off, walking up to some dumb library about a 20 minute walk away from him. Because that stupid nerdy library, happened to be a Pokéstop, and there happened to be a lure on it.

 

“I will catch ‘em all, bitch...” he panted as he got to the top of a hill that had definitely NOT seemed that big when he was at the bottom of it.

 

He looked back down at his phone. His little avatar was walking mindlessly along with him. He had no wifi, therefore he couldn’t catch anything until he got there. He assumed that the library had public wifi at least. If not, he'd turn on his data. He could see the Pokéstop icon on his screen.

 

He looked up. The library was just across the street now.

 

Grif sighed in victory as he sat down on a bench in the shade outside the place. He connected to the free wifi, and watched the Pokémon roll in. It was actually pretty fun. He sat there for the whole half hour, until the lure ran out. He was already at level 4! There were one or two other people he saw also playing it as they walked by. Someone had actually approached him in a very friendly manner because of it.

 

He went home that day feeling a lot more positive about the game. 20 minutes of a walk to a Pokéstop really didn’t feel all that bad suddenly.

 

\---

 

About a week later, Grif had gotten VERY into the Pokémon craze. He was level 16, and a diehard Team Valor member. He knew the map of his town like the back of his hand and he dedicated probably 70% of his life to the game now (20% was still food and approximately 10 was sleep now).

 

Every day, he went to the nearest pokéstop, and every day he met a plethora of filthy casuals. Most of the people playing this game had never cared, or even known about Pokémon before. He’d met a kid today trying to help him battle one of the gyms, who had no idea what any of the type advantages are. The kid had actually been a real asset, and Valor had reigned for the span of 16 minutes and 18 seconds thanks to him and his Hitmonlee, but he was really weak in his poké-knowledge. Kid probably didn’t even know the PokéRap. Grif shook his head. Kids these days....

 

The idea of just cruising around in his car from pokéstop to pokéstop seemed tempting at first, but after the introduction of eggs that needed to be hatched by walking (it stops counting the kilometres if you exceed a certain speed that humans can’t walk at), he had begrudgingly ditched the idea. Surprisingly enough, he didn’t mind much. Even if he was way too out of shape, it was worth it enough for him. He had even started walking to work some days. He wasn’t even sure what was happening to him anymore. He used to pride himself in his lazy, aloofness, but Pokémon had overtaken him. He was being active. He was being good to the environment. He wasn’t sure he’d ever go back to being the real Grif again.

 

One day, Grif was sitting on his ass at his beloved library pokéstop, enjoying the powers of a lucky egg and the lure that someone had placed. He had just successfully captured a Wartortle and he was feeling mighty proud of himself.

  
“Dammit!” he heard a voice from a little ways away, he looked over and saw a young man in a maroon shirt, probably around his age, swiping on his screen with one finger, the motion of throwing a pokéball.

  
“Just stay in the ball, you bitch!” Maroon Shirt yelled, swiping with more obvious frustration now.

  
Grif laughed, amused.

  
“What the fuck?” the stranger threw up his free hand in disbelief.

  
“Got away?” Grif asked.

  
The guy looked up at him, wide-eyed, as if he'd somehow not expected people to hear him while he was yelling in the middle of a public place. “Yeah,” he responded eventually, dejected.

  
“The Wartortle?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Bummer. What level are you?”

  
“5,” he said.

  
“That so?” Grif crossed his legs, leaning towards the stranger on one elbow. “What team?”

  
“Valor.”

  
“NIIIICE. Put 'er there.”

  
As awkwardly as was humanly possible, the guy recognized that Grif was requesting a high-five, and came a few steps closer to smack his palm with his own.

  
Grif smiled. Maroon Shirt Guy laughed awkwardly in response.

  
Grif got a good glimpse of the guy then. He was liberally covered with freckles, though despite his reddish (auburn?) hair, he wasn't quite white enough to be considered ‘ginger’. He had a skin tone slightly lighter than Grif’s. He had a prosthetic arm who’s colour didn’t quite match the brown of his skin. Grif inspected it curiously.

  
Of course, his attention was diverted not a moment later when his phone vibrated, indicating that another Pokémon had spawned.

  
The stranger looked down at his phone, too.

  
“Dammit, another Weedle? How many of these damn things do you think I need?” Grif complained as he caught it.

  
The stranger smiled at that, but didn't say another word to him, and eventually walked away. Grif thought nothing of it. He talked to a lot of nameless strangers because of ‘Go these days. He was just satisfied that the man had been another Team Valor member. The only local gym was currently owned by Mystic. Darn blues. He didn't know why, but Grif felt inclined to refer to them as ‘dirtbags’.

  
Grif yawned. It was 7 o clock. And he hadn't even eaten yet. That was despairing. It was time to call it quits for the day. The lure had just run out anyways. He figured he might as well pick up some dinner on his way back to his apartment. He went by the grocery store he worked at and picked up one of those rotisserie chickens and some sushi. He had work tomorrow at noon, that meant he had to get to sleep early in order to wake up on time.

 

\---

 

The next morning, Grif woke up insanely early. Like, crazy early. It was 9:30am. He stretched out, ready to roll over and go back to sleep, but then he thought. If I start to walk to work at 10, I'll have more than an hour to catch Pokémon.

 

He rolled out of bed and walked to the kitchen, purpose in his step.

  
It wasn't until he was halfway through his second bowl of Lucky Charms that he realized how unlike him this was.

  
“Jeez, Pokémon Go _is_ changing me...”

  
He debated with himself about not going and just driving to work at noon instead, but eventually he gave in.

  
It wasn't like he had anyone to impress.

  
Not yet, at least. He was single as fuck for now, though.

  
He went by the library Pokéstop and ran into the awkward guy from yesterday. He was sitting in Grif's usual spot on the bench. This time he wore red plaid. Grif suddenly felt conscious about the fact that he was still wearing the same shirt as yesterday.

  
“Catch anything good?” Grif asked casually.

  
The guy practically jumped. “Oh... hi. Yeah, actually.”

  
Man, was this guy ever nervous, Grif thought.

 

“Cool.”

  
It was certainly not as busy here as it had been with the lures the previous day. It seemed it was just the two of them there. Grif leaned against the building nonchalantly.

  
The awkward plaid shirt-wearing guy glanced up at him. Grif looked over at him and he quickly averted the gaze.

  
“Want me to put a lure on?” he asked.

  
“Uh, if you want to, I guess.”

  
“Hey, anything to help a fellow red team brother out. I gotta go to work soon, but you can sit here and use it.”

  
Grif tapped the pokéstop and activated the lure module.

  
“Thanks... Where do you work?”

  
Grif was surprised that the guy was initiating conversation. He was obviously one of the fabled anxiety-ridden shut-ins who were finally getting out because of Pokémon. Luckily, this guy wasn’t white, so he could pass off as tan rather than sickly and pale.

 

“Pharmacy. Not the best gig, but hey, it's pay. You?”

  
“Oh, I'm not actually from here, I'm just here for the summer. I'm staying with my mom.”

  
“Oh, cool.” _Nerd_ , he thought to himself.

  
After 15-20 minutes in near-silence, Grif started to make his way to work. “Later, man,” he waved goodbye to the stranger without turning around.

  
“Thanks for the lure!”

  
Grif smiled. Pokémon Go created such a nice community, he thought. Random strangers had never before been so social. Especially that guy. That guy had never been social at all. Grif felt sorry for him. He was actually quite easy on the eyes. Grif wondered what his name was, but he wasn’t too concerned, sure he would run into the man again.

 

\---

 

The next time Grif ran into his mystery man was a couple days later. He was walking through the park that contained the only local gym that evening. He recognized the guy sitting on the swings.

 

“Hey. You here to fight the gym?” he asked.

 

The guy looked up at him, this time considerably less startled. He looked almost calm, actually.

 

“Yeah. I just can’t beat it. I don’t get this game!”

 

“What’s your highest Pokémon?”

 

“Uh, Pidgeot? CP600.”

 

Grif snorted. “You need help. There’s only two blues left on this gym, though, nice work.” He took a seat on the swing next to his mystery man. “You know the top of the gym is a Jolteon, right? You can’t beat that with a Pidgeot.”

 

“Why--why not?”

 

Grif could not believe his ears. The poor sap was actually confused. “Because he’s a flying type, ya goof.”

 

The guy blinked, not getting it. “So?”

 

“ _So_ , electric beats flying,” Grif rolled his eyes. “Jeez, kid.”

 

“Oh. Sorry,” he apologized gently.

 

Grif actually started to feel bad about his petty elitist attitude, hearing the guy apologize. Obviously someone who had never played Pokémon before wouldn’t know all the type advantages. He bit his lip.

 

Grif started tapping and made quick work of the gym. He grinned triumphantly. “There you go. Put your best guy up there. I’ll fight it so I can get my Vaporeon up there.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“No problem.”

 

When the gym was officially red, Grif took a click at it to look at the stranger’s username. He snorted.

 

“What’s your name, by the way, dutchirishguy12?” he asked, suppressing laughter, as he battled the gym in order to create space for his own Pokémon.

 

“Shut up, I couldn’t think of anything!!”

 

Grif hummed. “Got a name, though? Eh, it doesn’t matter. I’m Grif, by the way.”

 

“Simmons,” he said. “I’m Simmons.”

 

“And you’re ... Dutch-Irish?” Grif asked skeptically, looking him up and down again.

 

“Yes,” he growled, embarrassed.

 

Grif backed off. “Psh, whatever you say, Simmons.”

 

Grif put his Pokémon on the gym and then put the phone down, and focused on swinging back and forth. It was starting to get dark out. The evening air was cool and nice.

 

“I should be the one making fun of you, DexterGrif69420,” Simmons said, starting to laugh.

 

“Hey! There is _nothing_ wrong with my username!”

 

“Whatever you say,” he giggled.

 

They just swung for a while, enjoying the lovely coolness of a summer evening. There was nobody else in the park.

 

“It’s so empty here,” Simmons observed quietly.

 

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

 

“I’m not used to it. I find it uncanny. I’m used to big cities, is all.”

 

“Where you from, anyway?”

 

“Sacramento.”

 

“Jeez. What’s a guy like you doing all alone up in Sacramento?”

 

“I go to Sacramento State.”

 

“ _Jeez,_ " Grif repeated. He had this guy figured for a nerd, but hearing that he went to a big Uni, Grif felt a twinge self-conscious about his never-even-tried-to-go-to-college self.

 

“What do you do?” Simmons asked.

 

Grif coughed. “I, uh, I live alone. I work at Walgreens.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“So you’re here for the whole summer?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Huh, nice.”

 

They went silent for almost too long a period of time, just watching the clouds roll across the darkening blue sky. They had both stopped swinging.

 

Grif had become almost intensely focused on the clouds, when Simmons suddenly yelled,

 

“Hey, someone’s taking our gym!”

 

“What, no way,” Grif picked up his phone to see that yes way. “Bastards!”

 

In a matter of mere seconds, the gym had turned grey, and then blue.

 

“Who the fuck...” Grif scanned the perimeter and spotted some kid sitting on the other end of the playground, looking mighty proud of himself.

 

“How the fuck did he even get a Dragonite?” he asked.

 

“It has 1700 CP,” Simmons said, sour.

 

“I’m not even gonna bother right now. That kid can have the stupid gym,” Grif said. He was probably like, 10 years old. He’d let him have his fun. For now.

 

Simmons yawned.

 

Grif smirked at him. “Isn’t it past your bedtime? Your mom is gonna be awful angry at you when you come in after curfew.”

 

“Shut up, I'm 22, I don’t have a curfew.”

 

“Oooh, edgy.”

 

“Shut up!” Simmons bumped him with his hip.

 

Grif laughed, letting himself be pushed to the side by the attack. This was nice. The carefree smile on the redhead’s face implied that he felt the same way. Grif got a good feeling from making fun of the dude, but also from making him laugh. He seemed like the type of guy who needed more easygoing fun in his life. And Grif was always up for that.

 

Grif swayed gently on his swing. He didn’t care what time it was; he didn’t have to work tomorrow, but when Simmons yawned again, he started to get tired too. He found himself yawning as well.

 

“It’s getting late,” Simmons said, standing up and stretching his legs and arms.

 

“Mmmyeah, it is.” Grif didn’t feel like standing up. Truth be told, the swing was hurting his ass, but the thought of walking up a hill to get back to his apartment was uninspiring.

 

“I probably should get going.”

 

“Yeah. Me too. My phone’s gonna die.” Grif gave himself a few more seconds, then gave in. He stood, glancing down at his phone again.

 

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” Simmons said.

 

“You too.”

 

“I’ll see you around?”

 

“More likely than not,” Grif smiled.

 

Simmons smiled too as he left.

 

Once, Simmons was out of sight, Grif sighed. It was back up the hill time for him. He was looking forward to his bed after all the walking he did today.

 

\---

 

The next morning, Grif rolled out of bed about half an hour after waking up. He decided to use his time to actually make himself a fulfilling breakfast, as a bowl of sugary cereal had not been cutting it these past few days for the amount of walking he had done. He knew today would be similar.

  
Contrary to popular belief, Grif was actually quite the chef. He whipped himself up a batch of pancakes in no time and patted himself on the back for his delicious handiwork as he ate. No matter how lazy you are, the need for good food can overcome all.

  
It was still early, but it seemed ungodly how bright it was outside. Grif pulled up weather network on his phone. The forecast for the day stated 104 degrees (Fahrenheit). Grif was having none of that fuckshit.

 

The thought of leaving his house with the kind of beard he had going on in this was absolutely preposterous. And shaving was not something he wanted to do, either. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't, but he _needed_ to play Pokémon Go. Also, it was high time he went grocery shopping. Maybe he could just get in his car and go. He had decided against that previously, but he was reaching the end of his patience with the hot summer weather.

  
He had to bring his car to pick up groceries anyway, so he might as well just drive by the pokéstops on his way, right?

 

Driving playing Pokémon Go, Grif learned, was the best fucking thing. As much as he hated being _that guy_ , he could go to all the pokéstops faster, AND he had air conditioning. If he drove slow enough, he found, it still counted towards hatching eggs.

  
When he pulled up by some random church to use the lure someone had placed, he ran into his mystery redhead for the fourth time.

  
He had not actually gotten to the grocery store yet when he had spotted the lure and decided to go farm XP. He was sitting inside his car with the windows closed and the A/C still on. There were a few people sitting on the sidewalk or grass outside the building, and others in their cars, like him.

 

Grif luckily was looking up when a certain freckled man approached. He came from the opposite side of the street from the church, and was coming almost right towards Grif's car. He looked miserably hot. He was wearing a red baseball cap, but was still squinting at the brightness of the cloudless day. Grif felt bad for him out there.  
He rolled down his window and called to him. “Hey, Simmons!”

  
Simmons looked surprised to see him holed up in his car. Or maybe he was surprised that it was Grif who owned the tasteless bright orange Jeep Renegade. (It was cool, okay? Grif was willing to fight on that.)

  
“Hey.”

  
“Hot?"

  
“Yeah, it's fucking killer out here.”

  
“You wanna come sit?”

  
Simmons declined politely, shaking his head.

  
“I have A/C....” Grif persuaded.

  
“My mom told me not to get into cars with strangers.”

  
“’Strangers’,” Grif scoffed, but he shut up a second later, realizing that Simmons was right. They pretty much were strangers. Still, he couldn't let the guy suffer out there when he had a perfectly free comfortable passenger seat next to him. “Hm, did she say anything about a Jeep, with an almost-stranger?”

  
Simmons still looked reluctant, but he was obviously way too overheated to really protest.

 

“Guess not,” he said.

  
Grif deliberately clicked the unlock button as an invitation to the redhead standing outside his vehicle.

  
Simmons came around the vehicle, and to Grif's surprise and secret delight, he actually got in.

  
Grif rolled his window back up to preserve the conditioned air.

  
Simmons let out a satisfied sigh as he sat down in the passenger seat, taking off his hat. His hair was slick with sweat and mussed up from the cap. Grif smiled in amusement.

  
“Thank you,” Simmons breathed, running a hand through his hair and looking down at his phone. “It's nice in here.”

  
“You're very welcome.”

 

 

+++

 

  
Simmons was sitting in the scruffy, almost-stranger's car, playing Pokemon Go.

 

“Yuck, I hate bats,” Grif complained as he caught a Zubat.

 

Simmons didn’t reply, busy catching it as well.

 

Grif set his phone down on his lap.

 

“There’s a lot of blues on our gym. We should’ve taken it last night.”

 

“What? Who are they?”

 

Grif tapped the gym. “Uhh, thealpha27, BitchInBlack, LaverniusDaddy-- oh, goddammit.”

 

“Goddammit?”

 

“That’s one of my friends. The fucker. Uhh, the top one is... Oh, no way. Fuck no. We’re stealing that gym back, dude. We’re going.” Grif started the engine.

 

“Why, what happened?” Simmons was confused.

 

“My sister.”

 

“Your.. sister?”

 

“She took the gym, dude. Fuck her and her traitorous ways.”

 

“Your sister joined blue team?”

 

“Yeah... I told her to choose red, and I think she meant to choose yellow, but she ended up picking blue. I’m not even sure if she knows. How could she be so carefree....” Grif pulled away from the sidewalk, and Simmons scrambled to buckle his seatbelt.

 

He frowned, not sure if what Grif was saying made sense.

 

“In her defence, she is colourblind,” Grif mused.

 

“Ohh.”

 

They pulled up to the park, and Grif rolled down his window, spotting an apparent annoyance on the bench across the way.

 

“Hey, Sis!”

 

The girl sitting on the bench turned around.

 

“Big bro!!” she screamed. Simmons winced. She had one of those too-loud voices.

 

As the girl ran towards them, Simmons could see very apparently that she was related to Grif. Her skintone was a bit darker, but as she got closer, he could see that she had a tan line, visible under her white tank top. The skin beneath the strap mark seemed to match her brother’s perfectly. Her brown hair was in a messy bun atop her head. She had a blue stud nose piercing and a yellow feather in her hair, and wore expensive-looking sunglasses

 

She leaned on the open window, and before she could say what was on her mind, she spotted Simmons.

 

“Who’s this? Your _boyfriend_?” she grinned.

 

Grif rolled his eyes. “Kai, this is Simmons. Simmons, Kaikaina.”

 

“Uh, you can call me Dick.”

 

Kai ignored him. “Is he y--”

 

“No, he is not my boyfriend.”

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“Taking your gym,” Grif said, looking down at his phone and smirking.

 

“No! Yellow team will rule!!”

 

“It’s blue.”

 

“Is it?” she leaned over the window, dumbfounded.

 

Grif didn’t even merit that with an answer. He just kept tapping on his phone.

 

“Do-do you want me to help?” Simmons asked.

 

“No,” Kai answered for her brother. “Never. Now can I come in this car? It’s fucking hot outside!”

 

“No.” Grif lost his battle and set his phone on his lap.

 

“Let me in!”

 

“Nah.”

 

“Dexter Malu Lani Ku’oko’a Grif,” Kai leaned towards him threateningly, “let me in this car or I am climbing in this window-”

 

“Whoa, whoa, respect the Renegade, I’m unlocking it, I’m unlocking it,” Grif clicked the doors open before Kai could get any farther in her savage excursion to climb into the front seat through the open window.

 

“Is... that your middle name?” Simmons asked quietly as Kai went around to the back door and Grif rolled up the window.

 

“Yeah. It’s two middle names actually.” He repeated the jibberish that Kai had said previously, explaining the meanings of the names, as his sister flopped down in the back seat, kicking off her flip-flops. Simmons wished he could say that he paid attention, or understood anything. He did learn, though, that Grif was natively Hawaiian, and spoke the traditional language fluently.

 

Sister stretched out and rested her unshaven leg on Simmons’ armrest. “Hawaiian is a snore, big bro.”

 

Simmons unclipped his seatbelt as it was rubbing against his shoulder uncomfortably. He scooted a little away from Kaikaina's foot.

 

“Hey, no one asked you,” Grif refuted. “Simmons was curious about my middle name.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

Grif muttered something that Simmons didn’t understand, and Kaikaina rolled her eyes. She reverted her attention back to Simmons.

 

“You know,” she took off her sunglasses. “You’re kinda hot. If you’re not Grif’s boyfriend, how abou--”

 

She cursed as her brother gave her a smack on the leg. “Stop being a whore, and leave the poor kid alone.”

 

‘Poor kid’ kind of hurt Simmons a little bit, but he was glad that he was spared from being hit on. Though, being called hot wasn’t something he got very often, and he had found it sorta flattering.

 

“You’re such a buzzkill.”

 

“Kiss my ass.”

 

Simmons wondered if the pair were always like this. He awkwardly decided to return his attention to his phone. He glanced to Grif, who seemed to have returned to his conquering the gym mission. He decided to help.

 

“That’s right; suck it, blue.” Grif pumped his fist as he and Simmons conquered the gym.

 

“Yeah, suck it blue!” Simmons added. “Put her there?” he said, awkwardly offering his hand to Grif.

 

The Hawaiian smiled affectionately, giving him a wholehearted high-five.

 

Kai squinted. “Are you _sure_ he’s not your boyfriend?”

 

“I’m pretty sure,” Simmons answered for him.

 

“Pshh, whatever you say, Dexter’s boyfriend. Hey, bro, do you have anything to drink in here or what?”

 

“Kaikaina, can you honestly not stay sober for two minutes of your life-”

 

“No, not _drink_ drink. Like, water. Duh. It’s hot as balls outside. I’m dying here!”

 

“Yeah, I’m actually pretty thirsty too,” Simmons chipped in quietly.

 

“Oh, sorry, no. I don’t have anything” Grif looked over at Simmons. “But I was about to go grocery shopping anyway; I can buy you something to drink.”

 

“What about me?” his sister asked sourly.

 

“Fine, you too.”

  
“No, no, it’s fine,” Simmons insisted. “You don't have to do that for me.”

 

“You sure? You’re already in my car anyways, I mean...”

  
Grif glanced down at his screen before setting the phone down on the cupholders and turning the car keys. The engine came to life, and Grif looked expectantly over at Simmons, hands on the wheel.

  
“Uh-uh,” he sputtered. “I... guess I don't really have anything else to be doing.”

  
“That's the spirit,” Grif smiled. “Buckle up, then.”

  
Simmons clicked his seatbelt in, and so did Kai. He still felt slightly unsure of the situation, but he felt oddly comfortable with Grif. He wasn’t so sure about his sister, but that one had nothing on her personally. Simmons was just bad with women.

  
They pulled up to the grocery store, and Grif parked the Jeep and unclicked his seatbelt. He grabbed his phone and keys and pulled a small piece of crumpled paper from his pocket.

  
The three wordlessly exited the car and walked into the store. It was sort of a weird thing to be doing with strangers, grocery shopping. Simmons wondered if this was weird for Grif.

  
Grif grabbed a cart. “What do you guys want?”

 

“Uhhh,” Simmons didn’t want his new acquaintance spending any money on him, but he really was thirsty. He knew it was unhealthy to go without drinking in this kind of heat. “Something cheap?”

 

Grif waved a hand. “Kai, go pick us all out some drinks. I want soda. I don’t really care what kind, just make sure it’s carbonated. And unhealthy,” he added urgently.

 

“Um, yeah, I’ll get a water, please,” Simmons told her quietly, side-eyeing Grif and the disturbing amount of determination he had in his voice making that request.

 

Kaikaina went off to go find the beverages, and Simmons followed Grif down the snack isle.

  
Simmons stayed fairly silent for the most part, but occasionally he wondered about what Grif was buying

“I thought you said you live alone,” Simmons said, confused, as he watched Grif stop to put four boxes of Oreos into his cart.

  
“I do.”

  
“Then....” he trailed off. “How often do you shop?”

  
Grif shrugged. “Every week or two.”

  
“You eat four boxes of Oreos ‘every week or two’??” Simmons was incredulous.

  
“Don't underestimate me.”

  
“Noted,” murmured Simmons, half shocked, half disgusted.

 

Soon, Kai returned and set down three bottles of water, a king can of Dr. Pepper, and an Arizona iced tea in her brother's cart.

  
When Grif was finished buying the strange assortment of items on his shopping list, they took them and went back out to the Jeep.

 

Grif handed Simmons a water. He chugged the whole bottle. Grif looked impressed. Simmons didn't even realize how thirsty he'd been.

  
Kai downed about half of one, too.

  
“Well it's a good thing you got a few of those, isn't it.” He said as he passed another one to Simmons. Grif closed the trunk of his car, turning back to Simmons and cracking his Dr. Pepper. "So, what's the story? You getting back in this car?"

  
Simmons wasn’t sure. He didn't want to overstay his welcome, and he saw no point in invading on the rest of either of the Grifs’ days. “Well, I should probably be getting home...”

  
“I can drop you off.”

  
Simmons blinked. He supposed that wasn't a bad idea, though he still felt as though that wasn't necessary. Then again, it was still really hot outside. And his phone was about to die, so he probably couldn't use the time to hatch his Pokémon eggs, anyways.

  
“Um, sure,” he said. “Thank you.”

  
“Shotgun,” Kai quickly called, briskly walking past them.

  
Grif rolled his eyes as his sister hopped in the passenger seat of his Jeep.

  
Simmons chuckled, getting in the back.

  
“So where do you live?” Grif asked as they pulled out of the parking lot.

  
“Oh, go left,” Simmons directed, telling Grif his address.

  
Simmons looked out the window, listening to the humming of the car. No one spoke, save for the occasional direction. Simmons’ mom lived a little out of the way.

  
“It's too quiet in here,” Kai complained, clicking on the radio. There was an interview going at the moment. “Yuck, politics,” she remarked, changing to a different radio channel, that played soft music.

  
Soon enough, they were at Mama Simmons' house. Simmons opened his door. “Thank you so much for the ride.”

  
Grif waved his hand. “It's no problem. See you around, Simmons!”

  
“Bye bye, Dexter's boyfriend!!”

  
Simmons closed the door and gave a wave before turning and walking up the steps to his house. He watched the car drive away before going inside. He took off his shoes, and walked into the living room. His mom had her head down in some paperwork.

  
“Hi, mom.”

  
“Hi, Richard. Who dropped you off?”

  
“Grif.”

  
His mom looked up, looking over her glasses at him. “Who?”

  
“He's my--” Simmons paused, unsure. Grif wasn’t a stranger, but he wasn’t really a friend. They'd just met a few days ago. Then again, Simmons was unfamiliar with the protocols on friendship. Was there a certain time quota someone had to meet to be given the title of ‘friend’? Were there specific things you needed to know about them? Simmons just didn't know. “Friend,” he decided, not wanting to give his mom any false suspicions.

  
She looked surprised. “That's ... great, Richard,” she said, no dishonesty in her tone.

 

Then she returned to her paperwork. And Simmons returned to his room, unable to stop thinking about Kaikaina Grif's persistence on calling him and Dexter a couple.

 

\---

 

“That guy's kind of a nerd,” Kaikaina remarked as the Jeep pulled out of Simmons’ mom's driveway.

  
“Yeah,” Grif agreed.

  
“He cute, though.”

  
“Yeah...”

  
“You want that ass, don't you.”

  
Grif sighed. “Yeah..........”

  
He hadn't really paid much mind to it, but Simmons really did seem like boyfriend material to him. And who was he kidding - he was fucking lonely. Simmons seemed like such a great datemate. Plus, Sister was right. He was hot.

  
“You're gonna get that ass if it's the last thing you do,” Kai yelled, with too much enthusiasm.

  
“What's with all this obsession over my personal life?”

  
“I want you to make sweet love to that man.”

  
“Why do you have to make things weird?” huffed Grif. “You're almost as bad as Tucker.”

  
“Because I care about you.”

  
Grif clicked his tongue. “Okay then. Oh, and speaking of Tucker, you're still not allowed to date him, by the way. Even if his kid is cute. He is a rat and I will not let him touch you. Besides, I think he has his eye on some guy right now anyways.”

  
“What _ever_ , fam,” Kai sipped her iced tea. “I've moved on from boys these days anyways. I'm hoping my next boyfriend will be a girlfriend instead.”

  
Grif put a hand on her shoulder, nodding approvingly.

 

“You, on the other hand, you’re getting a boyfriend. You’ll keep on trying.... And then you’ll try some more," she sang.

 

Grif couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face. “To stay together, and find a place worth fighting- hold on, I think I actually have that on here.” Grif switched the radio to the AUX setting, and plugged in his phone. Sure enough, he did have [that song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fOsdy1ZsXUs). He played it.

 

Kaikaina smiled, singing along with her brother as they drove back to Grif’s building.

  
When they pulled up to the apartment complex, they left the car on in Grif’s parking until the song finished.

When he turned the car off, Grif groaned. “It's almost 5 already... What am I gonna do for dinner?”

  
“Don't ask me.”

  
“Hmm. You wanna order takeout?”

  
“Hell yeah I do! Who's paying?”

  
“We'll split. Indian or Chinese?”

  
“Chinese.”

  
“Kay, look up the number for me, will ya?”

  
“Why can't you do it?” she scoffed.

  
“There's an Eevee.”

  
Kaikaina sighed, setting down her can in the cupholder and pulling out her phone.

  
“Here's the number, you order.”

  
“What do you want?” Grif called the restaurant and ordered a bunch of food for the two of them. When he hung up, Kai asked, “You got beer at your place?”

  
“Of course,” he replied.

  
Technically, at 19, Kai still wasn't old enough to drink, but she'd been doing so since 16, and Grif probably had too, so he really didn't care.

  
“Fuck yeah! When's the food ready?”

  
“20 minutes, probably. Let's unload the groceries, then we can go pick it up.”

 

+++

 

The next day, Simmons was sitting outside the library, his favourite Pokéstop in town, using a lure that he had placed for himself. It was surprising just how many people had turned up from all over town the moment he had dropped it.

 

The app was becoming increasingly popular to the point where it was getting crazy. He didn’t even want to know how huge the number of people playing Pokémon back in Sacramento was. There were probably even some stops at his University campus.

 

He smiled triumphantly to himself as he caught another Eevee. He was about to evolve one. He actually knew what it evolved into, too, which he was excited about. He had never been a Pokémon person, surprisingly. Not to say that he wasn’t a nerdy outcast as a child, oh no. He’d just been a Yu-gi-oh kid.

 

His quiet sitting was soon interrupted by some.... noise, however. It sounded like multiple people singing. Or, rapping, maybe? He heard a car pull up on the other side of the building. He went around the corner to follow the sound, and was taken aback to see that the sound was originating from a certain familiar orange Jeep.

 

The windows were all down, and there appeared to be quite the crew in the car. A couple of arms were sticking out windows.

 

The noise was definitely identifiable as singing now. He could hear the loud music booming out of the car’s speakers.

 

“At least one hundred and fifty, or more to see, to be a Pokemon master is my, destiny!!!” they screamed.

 

He walked up to the car, amused by the sheer enjoyment of the motley crew.

 

“Hey, Grif!” he called.

 

Grif stopped as he made eye contact with Simmons. Kaikaina and the others in the vehicle seemed to get the memo.

 

They all stared at Simmons in silence as the backtrack continued, “catch ‘em, catch em, gotta catch em all...”

 

“Hey....” Grif greeted.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“We were singing, dude. What’d it look like?” the dark-skinned man sitting behind Grif asked sarcastically.

 

“Oh, that’s Tucker, by the way. And Tucker Jr. And Donut,” Grif introduced. “Guys, this is Simmons.”

 

The child in the car seat waved at him.

 

“Hi, Simmons!” the blond sitting on Grif’s passenger seat leaned forward to wave at him. He gasped. “Grif, is this your--”

 

“No.” Grif said sternly. Then he laughed awkwardly.

 

“You wanna get in? Wait, shit, not enough seats. Tucker get out.”

 

“What? Why me? You can’t make Junior and I walk.”

 

“Junior can stay.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Okay, fine, stay. Kai, get out then.”

 

“I can just take shotgun’s lap,” Donut offered. No one listened to him.

 

Grif’s sister sighed heavily. She gave Grif a sort of knowing look, though, and hopped out of the car.

 

“You owe me, bitch,” she said as she walked over around the building to sit on the bench.

 

“Wait, I never said I wanted to get in the ca--”

 

“It’s unlocked,” Grif interrupted. “And," he waggled his eyebrows, "it has A/C...”

 

Simmons rolled his eyes. “I said I’m fine, really. Let your sister back in the car. Besides, this time, I really would be getting in the car with strangers. You guys should go back to your...whatever it was you were doing.”

 

“Uh, we were jammin’.”

 

“Yeah, sure, that.”

 

Simmons sat down on the library steps. He wondered what even went through Grif’s head. If someone invited him to get in a car full of strangers, would he do it? Simmons thought that sounded strange. He definitely trusted Grif, he just didn’t feel comfortable being in close quarters with a whole bunch of people he didn’t know. He’d be out of place, and interrupting.

 

“You sure you don’t wanna sing Pokemon songs with us?” Grif called. He looked almost like a lost puppy.

 

“I don’t know any,” he called back.

 

“What? He doesn’t? What kind of friends have you been making, Grif?” Tucker scoffed. "Tsk, tsk, dude." He turned back to Simmons. “Suit yourself, man!”

 

“Wait, wait, before you run off on me again here,” Grif called. He unbuckled and got out of the car, walked towards Simmons, then asked the most peculiar thing. “D’you have a phone number, by any chance?”

 

Simmons frowned. “A phone number?”

 

“A phone number.”

 

“Well, yeah, I have one, why?”

 

Grif passed him his phone, on the ‘new contact’ screen. “Because I want it.”

 

Simmons saw Donut and Tucker gasp and turn to each other behind Grif, in the Jeep. They were unrealistically excited.

 

Simmons took the phone, still sorta confused. He put in his number, and handed it back. He watched Grif call the contact “Simmons”.

 

“Perfect.” Grif opened up Pokemon Go again, and called around the corner. He said “Kaikaina” followed by something else, presumably in Hawaiian. His sister winked at him as she went back over to the car, and they had a little conversation that no one could understand. Simmons sincerely hoped they weren’t talking about him.

 

He hopped back into the Jeep. The lure had just ran out, so he started the engine.

 

“I’ll see you around, I hope?”

 

“Yeah, seeya.” Simmons waved goodbye.

 

“So it’s a date, then.”

 

Grif made a little mock salute, as he turned the music back on and started to drive. Him and his squad rolled out, leaving Simmons pondering the meaning of those words. Grif was joking ... right?

 

+++

 

Two days later, 3:00 AM.....

 

Simmons was awoken to the crude sound of his phone vibrating against his bedside table. He was confused. He never bothered to turn the vibrate off at night, because nobody ever texted him anyway. He wasn’t exactly a man of many friends.

 

He reached out and picked it up, squinting at the bright screen. The text was from an unknown number. It read:

 

_get in loser we’re going pokemon hunting_

 

“What...?” Simmons questioned aloud. He stared at it for a while. His sleep-deprived mind could not put together the puzzle. Who was this?

 

Then he remembered that he had given a certain Hawaiian his cell number just the other day. Oh.

 

 _Grif???_ , he typed in response.

 

The device buzzed again.

 

_Grif: oh sorry, yeah its me. im outside your house come on_

_Simmons: What the hell? It’s 3 in the morning_

_Grif: couldnt sleep_

_Simmons: I could!!!_

_Grif: sorry. come outside._

 

Simmons stood up, disbelieving. There was no way Grif had actually come to his house at 3 in the morning to go--

 

He pulled back his curtain.

 

Oh.

 

He had.

 

_Simmons: wtf???? My mom will kill me if she catches me going out_

 

He set his phone down, thinking of a way to somehow go. He stopped himself. He couldn’t believe he was even considering it. This guy was crazy! He had to make him go away.

 

The phone buzzed again, making him jump.

 

_Grif: dont get caught then_

 

He turned silent mode on before replying: _Impossible_

 

_Grif: i believe in u little mama’s boy_

Simmons pulled on a hoodie and unplugged his phone and shoved it in the pocket. He was still wearing pajama shorts, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he had anyone to impress. He slipped his wallet into his pocket as well, just in case.

 

He crept down the stairs as quietly as possible, and slid up the screen on the window farthest from his mother’s room. He climbed out the window, feeling a bit of an adrenaline rush.

 

He went up to Grif’s car, opening the unlocked passenger door.

 

“I told you it was a date,” Grif greeted with a smile, as Simmons got in the car.

 

Simmons punched him in the stomach. “What the hell are you doing here, you’re going to get me in so much trouble, I’m dead,” he ranted. “Why did you even think this was a good idea!! What the fuck, man!!”

 

Grif clutched his stomach. “This was- it’s just a friendly thing, ow-ow-ow... I do this with my other friends all the time.”

 

“Really.”

 

“Yes! Even ask Tucker. We go for late drives all the time. This was supposed to be special, though. It’s our first time...”

 

“Sorry...” Simmons apologized, leaning back in the comfy seat. He sighed. He was so tired. Nothing made sense right now. He was still dazed from waking up.

 

Grif started the car. “Where do you wanna go?”

 

“Don’t care,” he mumbled sleepily, picking up his phone to start Pokemon Go. “Just bring me back before 6. My mom wakes up early.”

 

“Sure thing.”

 

Simmons set his phone on his knee as he waited for it to load. He looked over at his kidnapper. His friend, rather. He wondered what the hell was on this guy’s mind. He was so... so carefree. Usually Simmons tended to hate people like that, but this guy was different. Simmons felt like ... he admired him. He was loose. He was fun. Did he admire that?

 

Grif was literally a guy who came to your house at 3 in the morning to play Pokemon and didn’t take no for an answer. Except that he did probably take no for an answer. If Simmons had told him to fuck off and never speak to him again, he was sure that this guy would be like ‘okay, sure thing’ and leave. He was that chill of a guy.

 

So, yes, Simmons decided, Dexter Grif was admirable.

 

When they pulled up to their first pokéstop, however, Simmons was starting to rethink his honourability.

 

“You dragged me out of my house at 3AM just to play Pokémon Go, and the servers are down!?”

 

“How was I supposed to know?” Grif protested.

 

“I’m risking my life here, and for what? For nothing?”

 

“Cool your jets, your mom isn’t going to kill you. She’s not gonna find out.”

 

“Still,” Simmons locked his phone and set it on the dash. “What can we do now?”

 

“Well...” Grif started. His tone of voice was sort of strange to Simmons. He wished he could see his face to determine whether he was being humourous or not, but it was too dark. “We’re all alone. In the dark. I could think of a few things.”

 

Now Simmons was glad for the darkness. Grif wouldn’t be able to see the blush on his face.

 

“U-um, what’s that?”

 

“I’m kidding, dude,” Grif laughed. “I think this is a perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other.”

 

Simmons actually liked the sound of that. “Hey, that’s true,” he said. Then he realized he really didn’t know how to ‘get to know’ someone. There was a brief silence that seemed to last too long.

 

“You’re... from Hawaii, right?” he asked eventually.

 

“Yup,” Grif said, tapping his fingernails on the steering wheel. “I was born there, lived there til I was, uhh, 17.”

 

He didn’t elaborate. So Simmons decided to ask, curious. “Then what?”

 

“Well, I pretended to be 18, so I could have legal custody over my sister. We didn’t have parents anymore. But people weren’t allowed to know that, or they’d try and take us away. We were fine without, really. I was kind of the dad. Without a dad of my own. Kai’s 5 years younger than me, and since it was just me and her, that’s kinda just the way it was.”

 

“What... happened to your parents?”

 

“My dad died just before Kai was born, so I was 5. And my mom was kind of a crazy person. She... ran away to join the circus when I was 15. Technically, she’s still out there somewhere. I’m not really bent on finding her, though.”

 

“You lived on Hawaii without parents for 2 years?”

 

“More or less. Mom was never really there for us anyways most of the time, so it wasn’t much different, I mean... It was always just me, I guess. I got to set my own rules. I learned a lot from raising Kai.”

 

Simmons stared at Grif in the dim illumination of the street-lights.

 

“Oh, hey, you want a beer?” Grif pulled out a black fabric grocery bag from the back. Simmons nodded politely. Grif tossed him a beer, then pulled out a Coca-Cola for himself. Because he was driving, Simmons pieced together. Admirable....

 

Simmons sipped his beer, thinking about Grif’s story.

 

“What about you, huh? What’s your story?” Grif asked, setting his drink down in the cupholder.

 

“Well, I... I’m an only child. I also didn’t have a dad. But I always had my mom. That’s pretty much it, I mean, my childhood was uninteresting.”

 

“Sure it wasn’t,” Grif encouraged. “What happened to your dad?”

 

“He left when I was 9. Never came back. My mom dated here and there, but never really found anyone again. She’s doing alright now, though. Works from home. Makes decent money.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“I come and visit her every summer, and on holidays, to keep her company, since I don’t have much else to be doing anyway. Got no friends, you know,” he laughed.

 

“You’ve got one now.”

 

“Hey, you’re right.” Simmons smiled into his can.

 

“You’re alright, you know that, Simmons? The first time I met you, I wasn’t sure. I mean, I didn’t expect to make a friend that day. But I’m glad I was wrong.”

 

“Me too....”

 

They sat in silence, sipping on their beverages. Grif was looking down at his phone.

 

“Servers are still down,” he commented quietly. He looked back up at Simmons. “So what are you studying?”

 

“Mathematics. And a couple of sciences, but those are just hobbies.”

 

“Wow....” Grif mused. “Nerd.”

 

“Oh, shut up.”

 

“It’s cool, though. That you do smart stuff. I never went to college.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Eh. Sorta that I couldn’t afford it, but also, I just didn’t care. And Kai’s never complained about not being able to go. I think she’s started to save up though. I prefer the whole ‘we live on front porches and swing life away’,” he half-sang, making a lazy motion of strumming a guitar, “’we get by just fine on our minimum wage’ thing, y’know? I have a place of my own, a car, a bit of coin, no plans... I’m set,” he shrugged.

 

“That’s... that’s really admirable, in a way, you know.”

 

“It is?” Grif was very genuinely surprised. “I’ve always been called a useless bum for this mindset. But thank you,” he added. His voice was soft, sincere.

 

Simmons was glad that he had decided to come out here tonight.

 

A few minutes later, the Pokémon Go servers were back up and running. Grif placed a lure on the stop, and they just sat there catching Pokémon and shooting the breeze. Simmons learned that Grif had learned to speak English first, but he had learned Hawaiian all his life. Grif learned that Simmons was half Latino, half European. Simmons learned that Grif’s favourite holiday was Halloween. Grif learned that Simmons’ was Thanksgiving. They learned that they liked a lot of the same Netflix shows, that they both loved the ocean, and cats, and beer, and video games. That Simmons didn’t like plane rides, and Grif did. That Grif loved pineapple on his pizza, and Simmons hated it. That they both hated sports, socks, and the unnecessary power that was given to people with Moreos.

 

They spent the whole night learning things about each other. Then, before they even knew it, the sun was coming up, and it was quarter to six.

 

Grif yawned, stretching out his arms. “I should probably take you home, hey?”

 

“Mhm...” Simmons yawned, too.

 

Grif pulled over about a block up from Simmons’ mom’s house, not wanting to make any suspicious noise.

 

“Thanks,” said Simmons. He rubbed his eyes. He was too tired to get up. Or maybe he just didn’t want to leave.

 

He unbuckled and grabbed his phone, going to open the door. He bit his lip.

 

“Wait,” he said, unsure.

 

“Hm?” Grif turned to him.

 

Before he could think hard enough about it to stop himself, Simmons leaned over the front seat, and kissed Grif. He kissed him. Right on the mouth.

 

Grif had very apparently not been expecting that to happen. He looked almost dazed as Simmons pulled away. He didn’t know why he had done that, but he stood by it.

 

“Simmons...?”

 

“Uh, I’ll see you around,” he squeaked, jumping out the car and closing the door behind him.

 

Grif grinned at him through the window, but he had an embarrassed blush on his face.

 

Simmons gave a shy wave, and made his way very quickly around and into his house. He scaled his stairs as quickly as possible without being loud, and flopped down on his bed. He stared at the ceiling. He felt all bubbly inside.

 

\---

 

Grif sat in his car, up the road from Simmons’ house for about 15 whole minutes after Simmons had left. Maybe he was too tired to drive, or maybe he was really really giddy, because his crush had just kissed him. The world would never know.

 

When he finally got home, he took a nap for about an hour, but he woke up again at 8. He was thinking too much, but he knew had to text Simmons.

 

_simmons_

_dick_

_holy shit_

_like i cannot stop thinking about last night_

_this morning?_

_whenever it was_

_you kissed me_

_dude_

_are u awake_

_fuck  
_

_i like you too in case ur worried that i dont_

_i do_

_and im hoping we can do something together some time_

_like_

_lets go for coffee sometime_

_if u like coffee that is_

 

He stopped. Maybe he was embarrassing himself. Maybe Simmons had been drunk. Sure, he only drank one beer, but maybe he was just really lightweight. How was Grif supposed to know?

 

He went and grabbed himself a cool glass of water. He was overthinking things. While he was sitting in the kitchen, he heard his phone go off in the living room.

 

He ran over and picked it up.

 

_Simmons: So, it’s a date then? :)_

_Grif: yes._

 

And that’s how Dexter Grif got a boyfriend through Pokémon Go.

 

Grif clutched his phone to his chest, beaming. He was blushing like some kind of schoolgirl.

 

He dialed a certain number he had on speed dial on his phone. It rang twice, then was picked up.

 

“Kai, you will never guess what just happened....”


End file.
